The Pain of Lyrium
by TooBusyHuntingDragons
Summary: After the calamity in Kirkwall, Hawke and Anders have been on the run, moving from mage resistance to mage resistance. However, they both know their time and luck in running out, and that the Templars will find them soon... Some Hawke (M)/Anders, maybe a littke Hawke (M)/Fenris
1. Chapter 1

Hello, this is my first fanfiction-y kinda thing. There is lots of angst in this story's future...

Anders didn't even keep track of the date anymore, nor how long they had been on the run. Hawke however knew how many weeks it had been since they left Kirkwall down to the day. It made Anders worry that Hawke didn't want to be here, and that perhaps he would be happier back in Kirkwall. In Kirkwall, Hawke was a hero. Here he was nobody. Anders wasn't even sure where 'here' was. It was hot and it was dry and they were squatting in an old house on the outskirts of some backwater town.

"I like it here," Hawke had said, "It's got a real nice…charm, to it."

Of course he had been sarcastic, but Anders felt that perhaps he wasn't completely joking. After all, Hawke was from a town quite similar to the one they found themselves in now. The sun was dipping beneath the horizon when they decided that they would make the abandoned home their own for the night. Anders lit a fire in the hearth that began to drive the loneliness out of the cottage. And as he began to cook some food over the cheery fire, the place started to feel quite cosy. However, Hawke was sitting on the step outside, looking up at the stars.

"What's wrong, love?" Anders asked, knowing something was on Hawke's mind.

"You know, it's been six months since we left Kirkwall today," he said with a sigh, "And one since Arry died."

Arry was Hawke's Mabari who had come with his family all the way from Lothering. Hawke had been distraught when the dog died. Anders didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't been there to comfort him. Arry had been Hawke's last little piece of home, and now that was gone. Anders had to keep a close eye on Hawke afterwards. He was worried that he might turn to blood magic again. Years ago, Hawke had made a deal with a desire demon named Dreamweaver to grant him powers. Dreamweaver had been bound to his soul but Hawke had managed to kill the demon with Anders' help. He had never been the same since, but he always kept his head held high and was ready with a joking comment for everything. But tonight, Hawke seemed down and he wasn't even trying to hide it. Anders sat down next to Hawke,

"I'm so sorry Hawke. The only reason you're not in Kirkwall is me. I had to leave, and you came with me. If it wasn't for me, you could still be there, with Aveline and Merrill and Varric."

"No, Anders, don't blame yourself. I want to be here with you. Wherever you are is my home now."

Anders grabbed Hawke and kissed him. Hawke responded eagerly.

"I'm glad you're here, Hawke," Anders said afterwards, "I don't know how I would have made it if you weren't."

"We're both pretty broken and it's probably going to take a bit more than some glue to fix us up," Hawke joked with his characteristic smile returning, "But together, we'll get there I'm sure.

Lying next to Hawke in bed that night, Anders continued to think. And despite what Hawke said, he couldn't shake the guilt. Hawke could have had everything. Even when he had made terrible decisions, Hawke stayed by his side. Anders had tried to be there for Hawke as well. Especially when a rather brazen Hawke got injured on the battlefield- which happened more often than Anders would like. But in the end he would always be okay. But now, Anders could never be sure that they were going to be okay. Hawke had no status to hide behind. Nothing could save him now if the Templars came after them. And everyday Anders had to deal with the constant fear that they weren't running fast enough or far enough. Just the thought of it all made him shiver under the sheets.

"Anders, are you not asleep yet?" Hawke mumbled.

"No. I can't."

Hawke moved closer to Anders and held him in his strong arms.

"I'm not singing a lullaby so this better be enough,"

Anders chuckled. He felt safe next to Hawke. And as he listened to Hawke's steady heartbeat, he drifted off to sleep.

Anders woke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the window on to his face. He rolled over to say good morning to Hawke but there was no one beside him. Anders bolted upright and scanned the house for his lover. He relaxed when he saw a note pinned to the door. He got up and read the note

_Gone into town to buy some food because **someone **forgot to buy some more the other day._

Anders usually liked to accompany Hawke on such trips and felt a little worried that he was there by himself. Anders realised he was always worrying about Hawke, even though he was more than capable of looking after himself. In fact, Anders knew that Hawke was better at looking after himself than he was. The whole disaster with Vengeance didn't make things easy for him. Anders exhaled deeply. Hawke would be fine, he thought. Nothing had happened in six months, and it certainly wasn't going to happen now.

Hawke strode cheerily enough into the town, even though it was a fairly desolate place. It reminded him a little of Lothering, and that made him both sad and a little happy. Though unlike Lothering, everyone here seemed stiff lipped and untrusting. He could feel the surveying eyes of the locals as he made his way to the trader. They knew a foreigner when they saw one. Hawke hoped they didn't identify as one particular foreigner- the Champion. Hawke brushed off the possibility. No one in the town would have seen him before, and even if someone had, he looked different to what he had six month ago. His beard, though still the same in size, was a lot rougher and messily cut. His hair, once immaculately cared for, was now mattered with knots and hung at shoulder length, though Hawke had now gotten into the habit of tying it back with a red ribbon. He also guessed he wasn't as clean as he used to be. Hawke finally found the town's trader and went inside. A small bell attached to the door chimed at his entrance.

"Morning," Hawke said to the storekeeper with a nod. The storekeeper looked a fair bit friendlier than the people outside.

"Good morning sir," he replied. As Hawke went about choosing food for him and Anders, he noticed the storekeeper watch him keenly, and almost a little suspiciously.

"You're not from around here, aren't you?"

"No," Hawke said politely but firmly, "Just passing through."

"Where you heading?"

Hawke grew annoyed at the shopkeeper's insistent questions.

"I'm visiting family in Orlais," Hawke lied quickly. Hawke regretted his choice. Orlais! Of all places, Orlais!

"Ah," the man said, seemingly satisfied. Hawke's annoyance subsided. Folk from towns such as this were often curious of outsiders. As Hawke went to pay, an idea lit up in the man's eyes.

"If you're visiting family, how about a wonderful handmade gift!"

He gestured to a small rack of carved necklaces and bracelets on the counter. It looked like they were carved from some from some sort of deer or halla horn. Hawke was about to decline when one caught his eye,

"How much for the cat pendant?"

"Fifty silver."

Hawke smiled. Anders loved cats, but was often disheartened at the fact he would probably not own one again, at least for a while. Hawke hoped that the necklace would cheer him up. He handed over the money for the supplies, and an extra fifty for the pendant. It was a beautiful little thing with intricate detail on the face. The shopkeeper thanked Hawke for his purchase as Hawke stepped back outside into the bright morning sun. He blinked at the sudden change of light, but quickly realised something was wrong as his eyes adjusted. The townsfolk that had been going about doing their daily business had all disappeared. The only people left on the street were a group of armed men standing in a semi-circle outside of the store.

Templars.

Hawke thought he might be able to bluff his way out of the situation, though he got ready to grab his hidden staff at any moment.

"What can I do for you Templars?" Hawke said in a cheery voice.

"Don't think you can lie your way out of this one Champion," the leader of the group said through a muffled helmet.

"Champion? Oh no, you've obviously got me confused with someone else. I'm definitely a lot more attractive than the Champion."

The Templars drew their swords and began advancing slowly on Hawke.

"Ah well. It was worth a try."

Hawke dropped the supplies and pulled the collapsed staff from his belt. A mage had altered his staff before leaving Kirkwall so that the shaft could be collapsed into itself to make for easier concealment. When Hawke pressed a button near the figure at the top, the wooden shaft expanded back to full size. Hawke did so now and slammed the butt of the staff onto the ground in front of him, sending a wave of magic forward that made the Templars stumble backwards. Hawke began his characteristic sequence of spins and flourishes that shot bursts of lightening and flame at the Templars. Hawke's speed caught on off them off guard and his attack sent the Templars flying backward. However, the rest deflected the attacks on magic resistant shields. Hawke felt his hand itch for his blood magic knife, but he had promised Anders that he would give up blood magic. But the Templars were good at lyrium suppression and Hawke could feel his powers waning as they began to take away his power. He knew that he might not have a choice. Hawke grabbed the carved blade from his belt and slashed it across his arm, leaving a thin red line that began to seep warm blood. Hawke felt his supressed blood powers begin to resurface. His attacks quickly gained strength though it sapped his energy to do so. Hawke heard shuffling behind him but before he could react he felt the butt of a sword slammed into his temple. It didn't knock him out but it made him sag to the ground. The Templar placed his sword on Hawke's neck.

"Don't move, maleficar," he snarled. Hawke began to prepare his blood magic again but before he could the sword was brought down against his head again, and this time rendered him unconscious.

It was mid-afternoon when Anders began to worry. Hawke had been gone half the day and every second that passed grated on Anders' nerves. He had been pacing up and down the little cabin, checking out the window every few seconds hoping to see Hawke's figure striding back. But he had not seen such a figure yet.

"That's it," he said out loud to no one in particular. He grabbed his disguised staff and started heading for the town with a nervous feeling in his stomach.

It didn't take Anders long to find the trader and the signs of a scuffle were obvious. Blood was splattered over the ground and Anders felt sick when he realised it could be Hawke's. He saw a nearby villager surveying the scene as well.

"What happened here?" Anders asked.

"These Templars turned up out of nowhere and ambushed this mage as he came out of the shop. Serves him right too. He was a filthy blood mage."

"Did they kill him?" Anders inquired, trying to stop his voice from breaking.

"No. They threw him in some carriage and headed off south. Probably heading to Fort Dival. There's a big Templar encampment there. Heard that the ones there are particularly brutal. That mage will get what he deserves."

Anders couldn't say anymore. He just nodded and the villager walked off. Anders hands began shaking as he realised he was alone again. He could feel Vengeance starting to rise up inside him.

"No…" he said under his breath, "Not here, not now."

Anders knew the townsfolk would show him no mercy if Vengeance reared his head. He breathed in deeply. Anders noticed the basket that Hawke had obviously discarded at the beginning of the battle. Something sitting on top caught Anders eye. He walked over and picked up the pendant, though now it was stained with blood. Emotions came flooding through as Anders held the little cat pendant in his hands as he realised Hawke had spent the little money he had on a gift for him. Anders closed his fingers over the pendant.

"I'll find you, love. Don't you worry."


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry, a bit of a short chapter. More is coming soon. And it may or may not involve a pretty bad time for Hawke... _

When Hawke awoke, he was on cold hard floor of what looked like a cell. He groggily got to his feet. His head was still pounding from the impact.

"That was unpleasant," he mumbled to no one in particular. He looked around and could barely see anything. Some torches lit up the hall in front of him and confirmed that he was behind bars. Hawke peered up and down the gloomily lit hallway and saw no one.

"Hmm. Templars are lazier than I though."

Hawke stood back and prepared to blast the doors open with magic. But he realised something was wrong. No power was coming to his fingers. And there was no tool to draw blood to use blood magic either. Hawke slumped back against the wall, annoyed. He figured the Templars must have some sort of magic suppression device in place. Hawke immediately began thinking of other ways to escape but not a moment later, a Templar guard appeared in front of his cell.

"Up," he said strictly and sternly.

"You know what, I am actually very content here."

"I said up!" the Templar snarled. With that he raised a heavy whip and brought it down on Hawke's face. Hawke recoiled in surprise at the attack. Then he saw the insignia on the man's armour. This was one of the "New Templar Order" of "Red Templars". They were separate from the Chantry and took mage control into their own hands. They had quickly become infamous for being particularly brutal and most carried whips to control mages.

"Alright, alright, I'm getting up," Hawke said, rising slowly. The sudden appearance of the whip made Hawke worried. It was quickly becoming apparent he was in a rather bad situation. The Templar opened the cell door and motioned for Hawke to follow. Hawke considered trying to overpower him but without magic, it would be a difficult task. So Hawke followed contently behind the Templar, curious as to how the situation would pan out. The Templar took him into the higher levels of wherever he was held captive. Hawke guessed by the design of the place that it was some kind of fortress- one that fallen into disrepair over the years. It wasn't a very inviting place and lacked even the most basic decorations. Hawke followed the Templar into a gloomily lit room where he was promptly forced into a chair and his arms were tired behind him. The Templar quickly left, slamming the door behind him. Despite Hawke's growing worries, he began to hum a tune under his breath as he waited to see what would happen next. Moments later, the door swung open again and in the doorway stood a particularly grim looking female Templar. Her blonde curling locks reminded Hawke of Meredith and he wondered for a moment if they were related. She strode forward with an air of authority and crossed her arms in front of Hawke.

"The formidable Haemon Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. Hmm, you're not so formidable now, are you?" she said with a smirk.

"Well I try my best," Hawke replied, using an ironic cheery smile. Suddenly, the Templar backhanded Hawke across the face. Hawke was not ready for the attack and it stung, but he made no sign that it did.

"You will not backchat me, mage. I have questions that need answering."

"You won't be getting answers with a swing like that. I've met Chantry mothers who hit better than that."

The remark earned him another blow, but Hawke braced himself for it this time. His wit and sly remarks had gotten him out of many situations before, and Hawke knew he could do it again. The Templar decided it was time to begin asking her questions.

"Our information states that you were in league with the mage terrorist who destroyed the Kirkwall Chantry. To save yourself anymore pain today, it would be wise to reveal who the terrorist is and where they are now."

Hawke's heart clutched as he remembered Anders. Anders would most likely be fretting badly back in the village since he disappeared. He suddenly began to worry about Anders frail mentality, and his tendency to fall into bouts of depression. Hawke looked up at the Templar and hoped his face had not conveyed his worried thoughts,

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Templar punched him in the side of the face with a gauntleted hand. Hawke couldn't conceal the pain of the blow this time and could feel blood beginning to trickle down his temple.

"Don't lie to me Hawke. I know you were there when the Chantry was destroyed. And I know you knew the man who did it."

"Perhaps I did."

"Where is he?"

"How should I know?"

"Because you worked with him!"

"Hmm, yes, because I keep tabs on every person I've ever met and dealt with."

The Templar hit him again. Hawke's vision began to disorient.

"You are a stubborn one. My mother was right about you?"

"And who was your mother?"

"Knight Commander Meredith," the Templar said in a soft but menacing voice.

"Ah, I see the resemblance. You have her hair and her crazed suspicion and hate of mages. I wonder if you're just as batshit insane as she was too."

Hawke knew the comment would hit hard and that he would be punished for it. But Hawke was testing the water, seeing how far he could push Meredith's daughter before she snapped. The Templar grabbed a fistful of Hawke's hair and threw him onto the ground with surprising strength. Hawke began to wonder if he had found her breaking point already. He felt the Templar's steel boot ram into his side repeatedly.

"Don't you _ever _say a word against my mother! She was the best Templar in Kirkwall!"

Hawke laughed. Meredith's daughter began to beat him even harder. She hit with a ferocity Hawke had not expected. He tried to talk again but instead coughed up a large amount of blood. He realised his plan was going awry. He tried to stand but was forced back down as a baton was swung down against his back. Hawke cried out this time and saw out of the corner of his eye a sly smile on the Templar's face. Was he trying to find her breaking point, or was she trying to find his?

Anders had gotten directions to Fort Dival relatively easily. It was the foreboding, depressing looking fort built into a mountain to the north. The locals said he couldn't miss it. So now Anders was on the warpath to the fortress to free Hawke. In the last two days he hadn't eaten and had only slept for a few sporadic hours. He knew every second he spent wasting time could the last seconds of Hawke's life. Just the thought of losing Hawke made Anders feel physically sick. Hawke was the only person that had ever truly cared about him. Hawke had saved Anders from a downward spiral that had nearly led to suicide. Hawke was the only thing that kept him sane, and Anders began to panic at thought of a life without his comforting presence. His panic spurred him on faster towards the mountain on the horizon. He would free Hawke no matter the cost.

Hawke was thrown back into his cell after the questioning when it became apparent he wasn't going to talk. He did a quick check over his injuries, and while they were numerous, they could be worse. His whole left side felt like it was bruised and his back was equally battered by the Templar's baton. But so far there were no broken bones and no serious internal bleeding. But this made Hawke realise that Meredith's daughter was definitely not done with him. The wrath of the Templar was limitless and for the first time in years, Hawke felt afraid. Truly afraid. Because he knew that they could do so much more…


	3. Chapter 3

Hawke woke and was unsure whether it was day or night. There were no windows nearby making it impossible to tell. He rolled over and groaned in agony as he felt the scars of the beating the day before. Hawke's stomach grumbled as he awoke and he realised that he was incredibly thirsty. But there was no food or water in sight. He tried his magic again but to no avail. Hawke leant back against the wall in defeat. He knew he needed a plan to escape, but he had no idea how. It was then he realised how useless he was without his powers. Without his magic, he couldn't do anything. He leant his head again the wall and closed his eyes. He didn't know if he fell into a painful sleep again but it seemed only seconds later that one of the Templar guards was rattling a key in the lock. Hawke hoped for a second that they had decided to feed him, but disheartened again when he saw there was no food or water whatsoever.

"Up," the Templar demanded again in the same strict tone. Hawke wanted to argue, but he knew he needed to save his energy for Meredith's daughter. Again he followed the silent Templar to the same room and his hands were bound again, though this time there was a stool, not a chair. Meredith's daughter appeared almost immediately.

"Good morning Haemon," she said with a dark smile. Hawke knew by that expression that she had something planned.

"Good morning, Meredith Junior.

"Taia. My name is Taia."

"Well, aren't we getting on swimmingly? First name basis and everything."

"Yes…perhaps you might be a bit more cooperative today."

"Depends if you ask cooperative questions."

"Oh don't worry, we've just received information from a new informer about the terrorist. And his connection to you."

"Did you now?"

"Anders must miss you terribly."

Hawke's heart dropped when Taia mentioned his lover's name. Somehow she knew about Anders and that scared Hawke more than anything.

"Oh look at you, you've gone all pale. You must miss Anders terribly as well."

"You…" Hawke said softly.

"What was that?"

"You…stay away from Anders…"

Taia laughed, "We'll see. Maybe I will if you're cooperative."

Hawke didn't reply. The tables had suddenly turned.

"Now, since the mage rebellion, many mages around Thedas have been forming resistance groups. And we know that you are involved with many of them."

It was true that since Kirkwall, he and Anders had been moving from mage resistance to mage resistance, aiding where they could. Hawke knew that the information he held was important, and vital to the mage cause. He straightened his posture and took on a businesslike manner. It was his duty now not to break.

"I am not involved with any mage resistance."

Taia nodded. For a moment Hawke though she was nodding a reply but quickly realised she had nodded at the man behind him. The man brought a heavy whip down across Hawke's back, tearing the thin fabric of his shirt. The whip bearer grabbed the shirt and ripped it off, revealing Hawke's naked back. Hawke shivered in the sudden cold.

"As you can see, I am better prepared today," Taia said, "And don't hesitate to think I won't use these again." She flexed the slender steel fingers of her gauntlets, "So be a dear and tell us about the mage resistance."

Hawke figured it would be best today to stay silent. After a few seconds of silence, the whip was brought down on his back again, though this time it hit the naked flesh of his back. Hawke hissed in pain.

"Maybe an easier question. Where are the mage rebels located?"

"Everywhere."

The whip lashed his back again. Though this time Taia let Hawke receive half a dozen lashings before continuing her questioning. On the last blow, Hawke fell onto the floor onto his hands and knees. Taia kicked his head upward.

"Look at you squirm now, mage."

"I'm not going to tell you anything…"

"You think today will be the end of it? No, we have much more for you, and for your kind."

"Your mother would be proud."

"You didn't know my mother," Taia spat.

"Yes I did."

Taia's eyes widened. This was new news to her.

"Then tell me messere Hawke…who killed my mother?"

Her voice had suddenly cracked. Hawke smiled…he had found her weakness.

"It was the red lyrium."

"Yes…but, she was using it in battle. It was whoever she was fighting that killed her…"

"I did."

"What?" she said, voice wavering.

"If that's the case…then I killed your mother."

Hawke wasn't sure why he was telling her this. Perhaps he felt that she had a duty to know, after what happened to his own mother. But Hawke truly thought that he could break her this way and escape. But Taia was suddenly consumed with rage. She rammed her steel toed boot into Hawke's ribs with such force Hawke could almost hear his ribs snapping. He cried out but she continued the attack relentlessly. She brought her foot down on Hawke's arm with a sickening crack. It was at that moment Hawke knew that it was a mistake to reveal his battle with Meredith. He thought that he could defeat Taia with the revelation, but if anything it made her stronger. The pointed toe of her boot had pierced Hawke's stomach and blood began to flow out onto the floor. Things were starting to move in slow motion as Hawke desperately tried to crawl away. In fading vision Hawke saw Taia step backwards and he hoped for a moment she was done.

"Dylan," she said to the whip wielder, "I want to see his back red."

Dylan happily agreed and began an onslaught with the whip. It was taking all of Hawke's power just to stay conscious as lash upon lash came down upon him. Suddenly, Hawke saw a newcomer in the room but he was so disoriented he couldn't even see their face.

"What…what are you doing?" the newcomer said in a familiar voice.

"Teaching this mage a lesson."

"You're going to kill him!"

"Good."

"But…if you do you will lose vital information."

"He killed my mother!"

"And he'll kill a lot more like her if we don't find out more about the mages!"

Taia paused for a moment, before ordering Dylan to stop. As the onslaught finally stopped, Hawke looked up at the two figures standing in the doorway. Taia stood there looking livid and the other…the other Hawke couldn't believe. Hawke tried to call out his name but it came out as a hoarse croak,

"Fen…ris?"

Before he could see his reaction, Hawke fell into unconsciousness.

Anders approached the fortress in the cover of the forest. He peered through the trees at the guards standing at the gates. There were only four, which would be a challenge but not impossible. He took the staff from his back and began to sneak forward. But he only took a few steps when a hand came from behind him and covered his mouth. A sack was quickly thrown over his head. Anders began to fight back, but he felt something jabbed into his side. Seconds later, he felt himself shutting down and joining Hawke in unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry, short chapter. The next one won't be far behind._

Fenris sat idly in the only well-furnished room in the fortress. It was Taia's room. He had been summoned by her to discuss Templar matters. At the last battle of Kirkwall, Fenris had sided with the Templars and had planned to stay with them until the whole mage verses Templar problem blew over. But it had not, and Fenris found himself working for Meredith's daughter. Fenris didn't like Taia- there was something about her cruelty that reminded him of the Magisters. And her use of the whip gave Fenris second thoughts. After the staff, the whip was the Tevinter Magisters' favourite weapon. On top of that, Fenris had no idea that Taia had caught Hawke until earlier that day. Fenris held bitter feelings against Hawke after their battle, yet it still pained him to see Hawke weakened as he was. Fenris wouldn't have minded a few decent punches at Hawke, but to beat him senseless and then use the whip against him…Fenris thought it too much. But there was nothing he could do. He began to drum his fingers on the table anxiously. Taia was late. Fenris was about to leave when Taia came into the room. Fenris noticed her hands were stained with blood.

"Sorry I'm late," she said as she sat down opposite him at the table, "I had to deal with Hawke."

The last Fenris had seen of Hawke, he was being dragged away. Fenris assumed he was being returned to his cell.

"Oh."

"Tea?" Taia offered, "Or something a bit stronger?"

Usually Fenris gladly accepted offerings of alcohol, but the sight of Hawke had put off his appetite.

"No, thank you."

"I suppose we should get to business then," she said, laying out some papers in front of her. It was a map of Thedas with various markings.

"These marks show where we believe the mage rebels are hiding. We are in the process of confirming them."

"I see."

Fenris hated to think what she meant by 'confirming them'.

"There are many around the border of Tevinter here which suggests…"

Taia was broken off by the sound of muffled pained screaming a few floors below them. Fenris looked at her inquisitively.

"Oh don't mind that. It shouldn't be long."

"What's happening?"

Taia smiled,

"We're confirming these locations."

Fenris shifted uncomfortably. Despite being muffled, the screams sounded like Hawke's voice.

"Now, we were wondering if you would be willing to take some Templars to investigate these nearby locations," she said, indicating a few of the markings on the map. Fenris nodded, but was still offset by the painful cries. If that was Hawke, whatever they were doing to him was more than a beating.

The meeting continued for ten more minutes or so when suddenly the pained cries stopped. Taia looked up,

"Ah, be back in a moment."

She stood up a disappeared for a few minutes. She came back with a new piece of paper. She laid it out on the table and Fenris saw it was another map of Thedas. There were one or two markings, but they had been drawn by a shaking hand. There was also a fair splashing of blood on the paper.

"Our friend has generously confirmed a couple of mage hideouts, but we still believe he is withholding information, so I'll have to get back to you on that."

Fenris felt a little sick thinking about what they must have done to Hawke to get him to reveal the information.

"How much more are you going to get out of him?" Fenris asked softly.

"We have something very special lined up for him."

"I see," Fenris said grimly. Since their last meeting, Fenris had been angry at Hawke and he hadn't let that anger go. But he didn't hate him. He never had. Taia noticed his hesitation.

"Before, when we were getting information out of Hawke, he said your name. Have you two met before?"

Fenris looked up, surprised. He thought his connection to Hawke was known by everyone. For a while, half of Kirkwall had been gossiping about how Hawke had an elven lover. But that didn't last, and neither did their relationship. But it had been long enough to make everyone in Kirkwall associate Fenris and Hawke together. It seemed Taia was unaware of their past.

"I…we…were friends back in Kirkwall."

"You? Friends with a mage?" Taia laughed. If she knew one thing, she knew Fenris hated mages.

"I thought he might have been different. But I was wrong," Fenris sighed.

"What made you change your mind?"

"He tried to kill me," Fenris explained, "Because I had sided with the Templars."

Fenris didn't mentioned that it was he who attacked Hawke in the first place. Technically, Hawke had retaliated in self-defence.

"He seemed surprised to see you before," Taia questioned.

"Because he thinks I'm dead."

Taia smiled. Her smile was a little too sweet for Fenris' liking. She put a gauntleted hand on Fenris' own.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore. You're a Templar now."

Fenris didn't know how to reply. So he said nothing, and left.


End file.
